


No One Captures This Gay Emo's Heart Like Gaston…

by ArtistActorAthens



Series: Sanders Sides High School AU [4]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Crushes, Deceit's name is Dorian, Fluff, M/M, Non-Binary Remy, i need to stop saying i can't tag, i think everyone knows that by now, it's pretty gay ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 00:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19896763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtistActorAthens/pseuds/ArtistActorAthens
Summary: Virgil’s not the acting type. Anyone who had talked to him for more than two minutes could tell you that. But when he goes out alone to watch his high school’s production of Beauty and the Beast, he realizes that maybe it’s not so bad to sit out and watch -- especially when the actor he’s watching is breathtaking.Prequel to The Sketchbook/HFOHABFOL.





	No One Captures This Gay Emo's Heart Like Gaston…

**Author's Note:**

> tw - swearing, suggestive language, mentions of anxiety/mental health issues, mentions of workplace sexual harassment
> 
> Hey all! I hope you enjoy this little addition to my high school AU :P
> 
> Also for those that are reading it, I’m sorry for not updating The Kingdom of Dawn for so long!! The last two chapters are almost done and should be up soon :)

“Remy, you _promised_ ,” Virgil sighed into his phone with exasperation. “I’m outside of your work right now.” He glanced over at the brightly lit building to his left and cringed as he heard a moan escape through the sole open window. He did _not_ want to know what was going on in there. 

_“Virge, I’m so sorry,”_ Virgil managed to make out over the pulsing bass of the music inside the club. _“Manager called me in for overtime and y’know saying no to him isn’t an option.”_

Virgil fell silent. He did know. And he did not want put Remy in that situation again.

“It’s okay,” he answered. “I get it. I’ll go to the musical by myself.”

 _“Hold on, gimme like five minutes, boo,”_ Remy said hurriedly. _“Stay where you are. I gotcha somethin’. It’s kinda busy in here so I might be able to, like, sneak out or somethin’.”_

Sure enough, about five minutes later, Remy burst out of the back door to the club, Starbucks in hand. The amber street lights reflected off of the sunglasses on his forehead. He was wearing a black halter-top dress with his black jacket tied around it, and he had a plastic bag in his non-coffee-holding hand. Virgil hung up the phone and waved with his signature two-finger salute, and Remy stepped over to him and gave him a gentle hug, trying not to crush the scratched-up black headphones around Virgil’s neck.

“I’m so so so so _so_ sorry,” Remy said when they separated, kicking off his heels and kneeling down to meet Virgil’s height. He put his hands on Virgil’s shoulders. “I feel like I’m like, lettin’ my favorite cousin down.”

Virgil smiled. “Remy. It’s okay. I get it. I’ll go on my own.”

Remy raised a filled eyebrow. “Ya hate going to crowded places on your own,” he pointed out, his New York accent shining through. If Mona Lisa Vito had a deeper (and slightly clearer) voice, it would be Remy’s. “Ya hate going to places, period. Ya sure you’ll be alright? With your anxiety and all?”

“I’ll be fine,” Virgil reassured him. “I took my meds this morning. And I have my art stuff if I need it.” He tapped his gray crossbody tote bag with some sketchbooks, a pencil case, and erasers that had been hastily thrown inside. “I’ll be okay.”

He wasn’t sure who he was reassuring.

Remy stood back up and handed him the plastic bag. “In _this_ bag,” he explained, “is a _totes_ gorgeous rose, hand-selected by yours truly. And _you,_ ” he declared, pointing a manicured finger at Virgil, “are gonna give it to the actor ya think is best. You don’t even have to talk to them!” he tacked on after seeing Virgil’s obviously fearful expression. “If it makes ya that nervous, you don’t gotta do it. I just thought it’d be a good idea’s all.”

“It is a good idea,” Virgil murmured in agreement. _But what if the person didn’t want it? What if they smacked the rose out of his hand and called him a freak? What if they were allergic to roses? What if --_ Virgil shook his head rapidly, trying to shake the thoughts out of his head with it. He clenched the bag and gave his cousin a small smile. “I’ll...I’ll think about it.”

Remy squealed. “Yes! I’m so proud of ya, boo!” 

The music suddenly increased in volume as the back door opened and a husky voice started yelling for Remy to get inside “or he’d regret it”.

“Just gimme a minute! Damn!” Remy yelled back as the door slammed shut. He turned back to Virgil. “Just try to enjoy the show as best ya can, yeah? No stress. Relaxation.”

Virgil nodded. “I like your dress, by the way,” he said, pointing to Remy’s getup.

Remy grimaced. “S’not a dress,” he fumed. “Believe me, I would’ve worn one if I could.”

Virgil looked at him with confusion. “Then what is it?”

Remy looked at the ground. “Apron.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Nothing else?”

Remy shook his head as he spun around. Sure enough, the apron had no back, save for the bomber jacket. “Nothin’. Why’dya think I got my jacket tied around it?”

“Jesus,” Virgil hissed. “Dress code change?”

“Fourth one this month,” Remy jeered. “‘Personal request from the manager’ or some bullshit. The guys get to wear actual clothes, but the girls an’ I are stuck wearin’ a piece of cloth that doesn’t even cover up our asses. And people wonder why the manager _oh so suddenly_ wants to spend so much time monitoring the bar.” He slid his heels back on and sighed. 

Virgil shook his head. “Dude. Report him. He’s a creep.”

“I should, shouldn’t I? But I need this job, hun. ‘S the only thing getting me a meal or two every once in a while. And if I reported him, he’d fire my ass _so_ fast.” 

Virgil heard the door pound open again. “REMINGTON MORGAN! INSIDE. _NOW_.”

“Just a fuckin’ _minute!"_ Remy screamed hoarsely. He sipped his Starbucks and nodded to himself. “Case in point,” he said to Virgil as he rolled his eyes. He flicked his sunglasses back onto his face. “I gotta get back in there, boo. Enjoy yourself tonight.”

“I’ll try,” Virgil said softly as Remy walked back inside and was greeted with “Take the damn jacket off, people want to _look_ at you.” He cringed and texted Remy good luck as he made his way to the school. The performance started in 30 minutes, and he wanted a good seat.

.o0o.

The lobby outside the auditorium was extremely crowded. Virgil was not okay. He didn’t want to eat any bullshit or enter any raffles. He just wanted to get through to buy his ticket and sit down. He clenched the plastic bag from Remy sitting at the top of his art bag and managed to squeeze his way through the congestion, sighing with relief when he finally sat down next to the left aisle seat towards the back, but hopefully close enough to see the actors’ faces.

 _Beauty and the Beast._ Spotlights projected onto the maroon curtain, the iconic lettering shown in shadow. Virgil smiled. This had been one of his favorite Disney movies when he was little; not that he’d admit that to anyone else, of course. If anyone else asked, it was _Atlantis._

Virgil stared at the curtain and briefly noted a spectacle-clad college student in a black polo take the seat to his left. He tensed at his closeness, and then reminded himself to breathe. _Relaxation. Ya got this._

And then, out of nowhere,

“Hiya, Virgil!” a familiar voice said joyfully.

Virgil tensed, but then smiled as his art teacher clumsily walked through the row of seats from the right aisle, bumping almost every person he crossed. “Can I sit here?” he asked when he finally crossed over to Virgil.

At Virgil’s confirming shrug, he grinned as he sat down to his right. His arms were full to bursting with candy. Virgil offered his art bag as a dumping ground for the snacks after taking out the plastic one. “Hi, Mr. Foster.”

“Shh!” he said with a grin. “It’s after school! I’m Patton now!” He smiled and gestured to the bag. “Do you want anything?”

Virgil hesitated, then slowly reached out for the bag of M&Ms on top. “Thanks.”

“No problem!”

Virgil sighed with relief as he opened the bag. Mr. Foster -- also known as Patton -- was the school’s newest teacher. He was young, but everyone respected and loved him on account of the fact that he was one of the nicest people to ever exist. He understood the struggles his students went through and tried his best to understand or help, even if that just meant offering them a piece of candy from the stash in his desk or showing them some cute puppy pictures. He was by far Virgil’s favorite teacher. Out of everyone in the school he could be sitting next to right now, he was extremely glad it was Patton. And at least he wasn’t completely alone now.

“How are you doing, kiddo?” Patton asked him as he broke open a box of Milk Duds. “I know it’s been a while since we’ve gotten the chance to talk and I just wanted to make sure you’re holding up okay.”

“I’m doing good, thanks,” Virgil responded gratefully. “How about you?”

“I’m pretty good! I’m really excited to see this performance. The kids in the drama program have worked so hard to pull this off and I’m so proud of them, you know?” He opened his program to the cast and crew list and turned so Virgil could see it. “Do you know any of these kids?”

Virgil scanned through the list of names and grimaced. “I know Dorian,” he muttered angrily as he pointed to the name listed next to “Beggar”.

“Oh, right,” Patton remembered. “He’s got a lot to learn about being nice to people. He’s a good actor, though. Lucy, though, the girl who plays Belle? She’s super sweet. And she’s one of my best students. Her skills are right up there with yours. I’m sad to see her graduate.” 

Virgil flushed -- he was never good at taking compliments -- as Patton went on with his gushing. “Mrs. Potts is amazing! They would practice in my room after school sometimes. And Zach -- he plays Lumiere -- he’s so good! There was this one time at rehearsal where he slipped on a puddle of water and just kept going with the song, haha!”

He pointed to the name listed next to “Gaston”. “Roman’s in your grade, do you know him?”

Virgil studied the name. Roman Prince. He’d definitely heard it before, but he couldn’t put a face to the name. He didn’t really talk to the other sophomores. He shook his head. Patton gasped. “Oh my goodness, he is incredible. And if you think his acting is great -- which you will -- wait until you hear him sing! He’s such a fun student to have, too. Always asking questions.” 

He tapped Virgil on the shoulder. “Of course, quiet students are great too.”

Virgil gave Patton a small smile as the lights in the auditorium dimmed and then went out. Save for the crinkling of candy bags and the hum of the speaker feedback, it was quiet.

An off-putting nasal voice started making announcements over the speakers. “Welcome, one and all! This is the Duke speaking. We are so glad you’ve decided to join us tonight to see Gainesville High School’s production of _Beauty and the Beast!_ ”

Cue applause from the audience. Virgil clapped along as he popped a blue M&M in his mouth.

“Thank you,” the voice said. “Now, just a few reminders.” He cleared his throat. “Eating and drinking are permitted, but if you don’t take five seconds at the end of the show to clean up after yourselves --” the voice said that part rather passive-aggressively, which got a few laughs -- “it might not stay that way. Flash photography and video recordings are not permitted. And please, for the love of God, silence your cell phones. Our sound system’s good, but not having any cell signal interference makes it great!”

The theatre lit up with bright blue cell phone screens as people sent their final texts or caught that one Pokémon. Virgil and Patton checked their phones to make sure they were off. They were. 

“That’s it, everyone. Enjoy the show! Duke, out.”

More applause. After it faded, the pit began to play the haunting opening melody of the movie. Virgil closed his eyes and took in the familiar tune and narration. When he opened them, he marveled at the beauty of the “stained glass” they used to tell the famous backstory. 

Patton leaned over to whisper in Virgil’s ear. “My art kids did those. I think you might’ve helped me with a few of the panels without knowing it, too.”

The stained glass panels were whisked away and the lights came up to reveal a quaint little town, Belle standing in the center and holding a wicker basket. 

_“Little town, it’s a quiet village...every day like the one before…”_

Virgil leaned over to Patton. “Holy _shit,_ ” he whispered. “You were right. She is good.”

The musical number progressed and more villagers entered and danced, and eventually, a stage gunshot sounded and the boy playing LeFou -- Micah, Patton had said -- scooped up the dead bird prop to hand it to Gaston. “Wow, you didn’t miss a shot, Gaston! You’re the greatest hunter in the whole world!”

“I know,” Gaston responded haughtily, flipping his hair extensions. _Wow,_ Virgil thought. _Two words and I can already tell this boy is perfect._

 _FOR THE ROLE,_ he added a moment later.

“No beast alive stands a chance against you!” LeFou exclaimed. “And no girl for that matter,” he added with a wink.

Gaston -- Roman was the actor, Virgil recalled -- smirked and started walking towards the left side of the stage. The lights caught the fabric of his shimmering red shirt, and even from his seat, Virgil could see the outline of his face, and the way the light reflected against his copper-brown eyes. He was beautiful.

Virgil felt himself flushing. _I'm not sure many boys stand a chance, either._

The scene continued, and then Roman began to sing. 

_“Right from the moment when I met her, saw her, I said ‘She’s gorgeous’ and I fell...here in town there’s only she, who’s as beautiful as me, so I’m making plans to woo and marry Belle…”_

Virgil’s eyes widened. Everyone in the cast had a good set of pipes, no lie, but Roman…

Roman was phenomenal. Everything about the tone of his voice and the way he carried himself onstage made you truly believe he was the character he played. And his baritone voice was absolutely gorgeous, both when he sang and when he spoke. Virgil kept his eyes fixed on Gaston as his scene continued, not wanting to miss a second of it. Patton leaned over again and Virgil barely noticed him. “I told you he was good,” he whispered.

“He’s _amazing_ ,” Virgil said breathlessly, transfixed by the Prince. He missed Patton’s small, knowing smile as he kept his eyes glued to the stage.

 _I really hope he’s not an asshole,_ he thought as “Belle” ended and Roman swept through his next scene. _Because he’s just so incredible…_

Then Gaston delivered a monologue, something heartfelt and selfishly profound and definitely not in the original script. It was brilliant nonetheless -- even the stoic man to Virgil’s left looked impressed. Roman’s stage presence was truly something to behold. If there were a million people on that stage, Roman would be the one you’d remember.

.o0o.

The ensemble sang “Gaston”, then “Be Our Guest”, and before Virgil even realized it, Act 1 had come to a close. During intermission, Virgil couldn’t stop thinking about Roman. Thinking about his voice and the way his eyes sparkled under the stage lights sent an unfamiliar pang through Virgil’s chest. 

“Omigod, did you see Gaston?” a dark-haired girl said to her friend as she entered the bathroom next to the one Virgil was leaving.

“Omigod he was so _hot,_ ” her friend replied, fanning her face and pushing her long blonde braid behind her head. “Like, usually, I hate Gaston, like he’s so ugly --”

“Right?!” Girl #1 responded. “I’m like, ew, gross. But _this_ Gaston is _amazing_. I’d _so_ marry him. Well, the actor anyway. He’s so _cute._ Ugh! Sorry, had a moment there. Let’s go.”

As they walked into the bathroom, Virgil stood frozen in place, a crimson blush overtaking his face and creeping down his neck. He pulled out a small piece of paper and hastily scribbled out a note. 

He _really_ did not want to admit how much he agreed with those girls.

.o0o.

“What’s the matter, Beast?” Gaston threatened. “Too _kind_ and _gentle_ to fight back?!”

It was the final fight between Gaston and the Beast. No one in the audience dared to blink.

Virgil looked to left for a moment and realized that the man from earlier had disappeared. He shrugged and moved over to aisle seat, Patton following suit and plopping into the seat Virgil had been sitting in.

Through the speakers, thunder roared. The lights imitated the flashes of lightning. The fight continued to escalate until Gaston fell off of the stage thanks to a single push from Belle. Virgil could see Roman playing dead at the bottom of the stairs leading into the left aisle. Even though Gaston was clearly the villain, he still felt his heart twinge at his death.

During Belle and the Beast’s heart-wrenching confession scene, when he thought no one was watching him, Roman began to crawl up the left aisle, quiet as a mouse. Virgil wouldn’t have noticed him if he hadn’t been staring. Slowly, he moved further and further up, until he was right next to Virgil’s seat. Virgil tensed up at his proximity. He dug into his bag to get the rose and his note, and carefully dropped them onto the floor in front of Roman.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roman pick up the dropped items. Then he felt a light, quick tap on his leg, and started feeling a bit dizzy when he realized it was Roman who had tapped him.

“You dropped these,” the boy whispered, so softly he was almost mouthing the words. He held up the flower and the note, and Virgil shook his head, pushing Roman’s arm back down and blushing as their hands brushed.

“They’re for you,” he whispered back. “You are amazing.” He then turned away, mortified by his word choice. _You_ are? _Really, Virgil? You could’ve said ‘you_ were _amazing’ like any normal person, but nope, you had to fuck it up in front of this gorgeous boy and --_

“Oh,” he heard Roman reply softly. “I - um - thank you. That’s very sweet, thanks.” He smiled gently at Virgil as he finished his journey up the aisle.

He barely paid attention to the finale. He couldn’t get that small, unsure smile out of his head. He couldn’t get anything about that boy out of his head.

Oh shit. He was really in deep.

That night, Virgil climbed into bed and cracked open his new sketchbook. He frantically searched through his yearbook for Roman’s picture. His heart leapt when he saw it and when he read his name in fine print off to the side. _Roman Taylor Prince._

Carefully, Virgil began to brush his pencil across the page, first forming a jawline, then lips, then nose, then eyes. He added the little features in his face that he had missed while watching him from a distance, smiling the whole time his pencil moved and frowning when he pulled out his eraser because _something_ didn’t look quite right. He didn’t go to sleep until he was halfway done. But he still felt a strange sense of warm joy as he fell asleep.

.o0o.

“Set for the top of the show! Fantastic work, everyone. Only one more performance to go!” Remus yelled. The overly dramatic student stage manager was ecstatic that tonight’s show had gone off for the most part without a hitch -- unlike opening night, where so many things had gone wrong Roman couldn’t even begin to name them all. He set his shotgun and bag on the prop table on stage left -- everything else of his was where it needed to be for tomorrow’s matinee performance -- and ran into Micah on his way over to the greenroom.

“Yo, _nice_ work, Ro,” Micah howled. “Woot!” He heaved his bird prop onto the table and almost broke the candle prop sitting next to it.

“Careful!” Roman reminded him. “And thank you. You were amazing tonight.”

“I was better than last night, at least,” Micah shrugged. “You stole the show though, man! Everyone in the house has been talking about you.”

Roman punched him in the shoulder. “Yeah, right.”

Logan had left. In the middle of the show. He couldn’t believe it. He knew exactly where his brother had been sitting, and when he looked again, he was gone. He hoped his confidence masked his disappointment. Sighing, he texted Logan asking him to pick him up. Hopefully, he’d respond. 

It wasn’t until he’d finished signing programs and changing that he remembered he’d put two non-prop items into Gaston’s bag. When he ran across the dark stage to retrieve them, he realized there was no sound coming from the house. The curtain was closed, but Roman knew the auditorium was empty.

He walked from stage left and poked his head through the thick velvet to confirm his conclusion. Upon seeing that, yes, it was indeed vacant save for him, he carefully walked through and sat down on the edge of the apron on stage right.

A rose and a folded-up piece of paper. The person sitting in Logan’s seat had dropped these for him, whispering, “You are amazing.”

 _You are amazing._ Roman had received a lot of compliments over the years, but none of them had touched him quite so much as this one had. Maybe it was because it was in the quiet of the theatre as opposed to the chaos of the lobby. Maybe it was because it was during the most romantic scene in the play. Maybe it was because it was in the present tense. You _are_ amazing.

He picked up the flower and studied it. It was a rose, a scarlet red one, with beautiful petals and an enchanting scent. It was exquisite. Roman tucked it into his shirt, careful as to not prick himself with the thorns, and turned to the paper, which he, when he unfolded it, realized was a note. A few lines were written in hasty chicken-scratch:

 _My cousin told me to give the rose to the best actor in the show. You were so great. Your singing voice, your acting, it was all so amazing. You should be on Broadway. Good luck with the rest of your shows._

The note was so genuine and Roman wanted to cry. He wanted to find the person who’d written the note and give them the biggest hug and thank them. Unfortunately, the note was unsigned. Roman clutched it to his heart and looked back at the sound booth. “Thank you, kind stranger,” he whispered into the theatre.

That had to be good enough for now.

.o0o.

“Oh my goodness, that was _you_?” Roman asked Virgil. He slammed his vanilla iced coffee onto the high-top table and looked at Virgil with disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Virgil sipped his hot chocolate and flushed. “Because it was embarrassing…”

Roman grabbed Virgil’s hand from across the table. “I still have that note pinned to my wall.” 

Virgil gave him a look. “You do?”

“Of course I do,” Roman responded. “And now that I know it’s from you, love, it’s never coming down.” He winked and Virgil’s ears turned red and he folded in on himself with a shy smile. _Cute,_ Roman thought as a blush came over his own face.

“Hey, that makes two anonymous things from me that were complimenting you,” Virgil realized, referring to both the note and the sketchbook that had gotten them together.

Roman’s eyebrows heightened as he remembered something. “Actually...that makes three.” He pulled out a bookmark from one of his school books and slid it across the table to Virgil. It was a cream strip of cardstock, laminated with a familiar pressed flower. “I learned that pressing roses is quite a difficult task,” he admitted with a laugh.

He jumped down from the table and Virgil carefully stepped down to grab his art bag. Roman threw on his varsity jacket and his messenger bag and held out a hand to Virgil. “Are you ready?”

Virgil adjusted his beanie and laced his fingers through Roman’s. “Yep.”

Roman pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Then let’s go.”

Hand in hand, they walked to Gainesville Elementary School, feet crunching through the snow. They both found themselves humming the all-too-familiar tunes of Beauty and the Beast, and laughing when the other got a part wrong. Just as they entered the school’s auditorium and took their seats, the lights dimmed, and then faded out. An older-looking woman stepped out onto the stage and a spotlight fixed on her.

“Hello, everyone,” she began. “My name is Mrs. Graham. It is my pleasure to welcome you all to Gainesville Elementary School’s production of _Beauty and the Beast._ ”

Virgil slowly intertwined his fingers with Roman’s and leaned his head on his shoulder. He could feel Roman smiling. He reached up and poked Roman’s dimple, smiling back at his fake-offended expression.

Yeah. This was going to be a good day.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are appreciated!


End file.
